


Let's Roll

by HurricanesatDawn



Series: Drive Through the Night [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Barebacking, Blow Jobs, M/M, Twin swapping, hints of twincest, or whatever the fuck that's called
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 11:46:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/978503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HurricanesatDawn/pseuds/HurricanesatDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>“Jim —” </em>Sebastian groans roughly, Richard’s brother’s name slipping from his lips, and Richard growls, biting down harder, his teeth driving deeper into the man's skin.</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>He hates it, though, hates the sound of <em>Jim’s</em> name on this man’s lips. It’s not <em>his</em> name, it’s not <em>Richard,</em> and Sebastian has no right to call out Jim’s name here. Not when he’s not fucking Jim, even if he doesn’t know it, and it’s illogical, because he’s supposed to be Jim right now, he’s not supposed to let his jealousy get the best of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Roll

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yoohoopuddin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoohoopuddin/gifts).



> Written originally on Tumblr for the lovely Emma, whose prompt it was (which I butchered entirely for my own gain), found [here.](http://yoohoopuddin.tumblr.com/post/59135555198/lets-roll)

_It’s just another round of the game,_  Jim tells him. He brushes his fingers through Richard’s hair, scratching his scalp absently, the words a honeyed whisper in his brother’s ear.  _We did it all the time in our youth. Don’t you recall how much fun it was? You got to be almost better at it than me._

_And then you stole my boyfriend from me,_ Richard thinks, but doesn’t say it; because it’s an old argument of theirs, that they’ve had a hundred times. The boyfriend was never the important part of it, as neither had particularly cared for him at the time. It was the act of Jim stealing something of Richard's that could never be fully forgiven, even after so many years.

They’d stopped playing the game so much after that, after Jim had walked away with Richard’s boyfriend on his arm. He hadn’t even kept him for a week, getting bored of the fool once the novelty of it wore away into disgust. He’d come back, that boy had, trailing after Richard like a lost puppy, apologising over and over for leaving him for Jim. But the boy hadn’t been nearly good enough in bed to warrant having Jim’s sloppy thirds.

Though they rarely spoke of the game after that, it had always existed in both of their minds. It was something that they shared, beyond their DNA, their absolutely identical looks, their ability to transform utterly into the other was something they always relished.

_I thought he was off limits,_  Richard says instead, turning his head to drag his teeth along his brother’s bare chest.  _Yours, you said. Not a part of the game._ His words are teasing, but there’s a hardness behind them, a bitterness hiding in the back of his tone and the black of his eyes.

Jim only smirks, thumbing at Richard’s lower lip.  _Not today. My pet needs a reward for services well rendered, and I hardly feel like being the one to test out his supposed virility in bed. You’ll report back to me, of course, confirming or denying any and all rumours about his prowess._

Laughing, Richard kisses the palm of Jim’s hand, tilting his head.  _Rules?_

_He has to think you’re me until the end._

—

When he walks out of Jim’s bedroom, clad in one of his brother’s suits, he’s already finished with pulling on the long worn facade of the man’s face onto his. His stance changes, tightening, shoulders tense, mouth pressed into a thin, unamused line, and gait sliding into something more controlled and less easy to wear.

He knows he has it down, even though it’s been a while, years, since he last did this, since he last seduced one of Jim’s employees — _without_ permission, that time — under the man’s nose. He did, after all, spend nearly every day at his brother’s side as they grew together, personalities developing side by side, which is why they know each other so well, know how to be each other.

As predicted by Jim, the man’s body is stretched — no,  _sprawled_  is the more perfect word for it — across the sofa, a book in hand, the other arm curled up behind his head. He looks relaxed, easy, and  _comfortable_  living in Jim’s flat, despite it only being a few weeks since he moved into the spare bedroom.

He looks up at Richard when he enters the room, eyebrow going up, and lips twitching into an aborted smile. “‘Lo, boss,” he says, not setting the book down yet, but not going back to reading it. He’s wary, that much Richard can tell, even though he knows so little about this particular man. Jim hadn’t wanted to give him too much of an advantage, and Richard knows that part of it is that desire his brother has always had, to see him fail at this game, so _he_ can be the one that's better.

But Jim is not better,  _Richard_  is, and he’ll prove it if he has to spend decades on the task. He doesn’t respond in greeting to Sebastian, continuing to stalk towards the man, until he’s within a couple meters away from him, towering above his form.

_“Get. Up.”_ He orders quietly, the words not needing a higher volume, not with the obvious tenseness curled behind them.

Startled, Sebastian obeys with a frown, setting the book on the cushion behind him as he stands. His stance shifts around a bit, but settles into an easy pose, refusing blatantly to be at attention for Jim, and Richard appreciates that somewhat. “Something the matter, sir?”

Richard blinks, beckoning the man closer with his fingers. “Step forward,” he tilts his head, swiveling it only the tiniest bit. “Come closer.

The man does with only the faintest hesitation, breathing in carefully and swallowing as he comes to a stop standing directly in front of Richard. He’s quite tall, Richard notes, trailing his eyes down the man’s body, analysing him with Jim’s easy haughtiness, and then back up, to his face.

Unconsciously, Sebastian starts to shift again, a little bit uncomfortable under the gaze, and his shoulders tighten into a straighter line. “Sir?”

“How big is your cock?” Richard asks suddenly, narrowing his eyes as he directs them to meet Sebastian’s.

The question sends Sebastian blinking, not blushing, but obviously fighting back the urge to cough. He’s far from embarrassed, just surprised. “Uh —” he hesitates for a moment, licking his lips. “Nine long, four and a half wide.”

“Hm.” Richard hums, and really, he shouldn’t be surprised in the least at that. Jim probably knew, and hoped it might intimidate him into showing a reaction, but he’s been with nearly that large before. “That all?”

The snort that comes from Sebastian’s nose seems to relax the man slightly, and within moments, he’s smirking casually. “Why d’ya wanna know?” he pries, cockiness slipping into his demeanour, and there’s that confidence that Richard had been expecting from the start. He’s half expecting the man to ask him if he’s looking to try it out, but Sebastian doesn’t.

“Collecting data,” Richard tells him sharply, enunciating the second syllable, and he reaches a hand out, pressing two fingers against Sebastian’s chin. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your performance in bed?”

“Well,” and Sebastian glances down at the fingers, looking faintly suspicious, but he licks his lips and meets Richard’s eyes again. “I’m not exactly in the place to answer that question, but,” his eyes sparkle tauntingly, smirk spreading. “But I’d have to go with a nine.”

“A nine?” he parrots back, lifting his eyebrows. _“Only_  a nine, Moran? Or are you overestimating yourself, not expecting that I’ll take the time to verify your boasting?”

Sebastian swallows, only the tiniest hint of a lack of surety playing in his expression, and when he hasn’t responded in several seconds, Richard draws his hand back to slap him across the face. It’s light, not nearly hard enough to do more than sting, and he’s careful to not let his nails catch along the man’s skin. Sebastian flinches, but doesn’t stumble back — he’s clearly used to physical attacks of differing severity from Jim — before snarling.

“What was that for, boss?” he spits out, annoyed now.

Deliberately, Richard drags the corner of his lips into a sneer. “You were taking too long to respond. I was making certain that you were still awake in there.”

Another snort forces its way from Sebastian’s nose, but he doesn’t do anything in response to the hit.  _Jim has him trained well,_  Richard thinks. “Aww, now, don’t be like that,” he says, purring gently, and he strokes the same hand down Sebastian’s cheek, soothing him.

The line of Sebastian’s throat bobs as he swallows again, now looking like he might step back, away from the contact, but he fights that instinct. “I said nine because perfection doesn’t exist, and if I tried to imply that it did, you would laugh at me for my arrogance.”

“Fair point,” Richard concedes, dipping his head down once, and then back up, his lips shrugging. He doesn’t retract his hand, and Sebastian makes an aborted movement to pull away, only hesitating when he sees the flash of threatening fire in Richard’s eyes.

“Was there anything else you wanted, sir?” he asks, lingering defiance slipping through his guard, and Richard decides that he likes this man. A little bit, at least.

“Yes, actually,” Richard smiles, saccharine sweet, and flicks his tongue out to wet the edge of his lips. “Kiss me, Moran.”

His order draws Sebastian’s eyes further open, unreserved surprise flickering through his features. The man opens his mouth, moving his lips, but for a second not a sound emerges as — presumably — Richard’s words play in his mind again. He looks as if he’s not certain if he heard correctly or not, so Richard pushes closer, sliding his hand down along Sebastian’s neck.

“Alright,” Sebastian murmurs finally, swallowing, and then he pushes down to meet Richard, ducking his head as their lips come together. The area of his skin touched by Richard’s hand burns, and the kiss starts out chaste, as if Sebastian can’t quite get over his hesitance.

It’s left to Richard to figure out the angle, changing it, fitting their mouths properly together as he lifts himself up on his feet to get closer to Sebastian’s lips, and suddenly it’s no longer soft and semi-innocent. There’s no longer possibility of doubt in Sebastian’s mind, that this might be something easily misinterpreted, not as Richard forces their mouths to meld together.

Copying Richard’s actions earlier somewhat, Sebastian brings his hands up, cupping his face and pressing his tongue along the seam of Richard’s lips. They part immediately, as Richard gives in without a fight, and his skin flushes as their tongues meet, dragging against each other.

One of Sebastian’s hands slips away after a moment, down the line of Richard’s body, and around to the small of his back. He’s blocked by jacket and shirt, but Richard can feel the warmth of his hand seeping in through the material, and he arches against the man.

The kiss ends only moments after that, leaving Richard breathing heavily against Sebastian’s mouth. He looks up after a moment, to Sebastian blinking down at him, his hand unmoving as it’s held tight against his body.

_“Is this —”_  the thought goes unfinished, Richard pressing forward again before Sebastian can catch his breath, claiming his lips in a second kiss. The man mumbles something more, groaning against him, but he ignores it, taking control now. Clearly he can’t trust Jim’s pet to do anything at the moment, unless it’s make them both feel awkward about this.

A heavy utterance of  _f_ _uck_  drags between them, whether it’s both that say it, or just one, and Richard doesn’t linger on it, walking Sebastian back towards the sofa, where the man had been sitting before. He shoves Sebastian down, following after him and climbing into his lap, just as the man’s hands go automatically to brace around Richard’s hips.

He smirks at that, biting down hard first on the edge of Sebastian’s mouth, then his bottom lip, teasingly nibbling at his tongue. The sensations make Sebastian groan, his hands moving farther down, to palm across Richard’s arse. It’s clear the moment he touches it — releasing a pleased sigh — that he’s imagined this moment before, thought about what it must be like to touch it, imagined squeezing it between his hands.

Feeling oddly like he wants to mark Sebastian, Richard tears their mouths apart after only a few brief seconds, trailing his lips down the man’s neck before he can protest. He drags his teeth in odd intervals across Sebastian’s skin, nudging his head so it falls back when he reaches his destination, and bites down on the soft part of his neck.

The man groans again, pawing at Richard’s back until he can get his hand underneath the jacket, and then untucking his shirt to slip his fingers against skin. Richard bites down, and maybe it’s supposed to be a warning, maybe not, but Sebastian seems more pleased than anything, a gasp slipping from his throat, and then his hand slides under Richard’s trousers to cup his arse properly.

As Sebastian palms him — and he has to admit, it does feel good — he sets to work painting an elaborate bruise on the man that will be near impossible to hide; and, he’s certain, will last at least a week. Jim will punish him for it, no doubt, or at least try, but he doesn’t care.

_“Jim —”_ Sebastian groans roughly, Richard’s brother’s name slipping from his lips, and Richard growls, biting down harder, his teeth driving deeper into the man's skin. He doesn’t pull away until he’s absolutely satisfied that the mark is perfect, and then he forces his mouth against Sebastian’s again, keeping him from saying anything more, or repeating Jim’s name.

The kiss drags out into a fight almost instantly, tongues at war, and while Sebastian obviously thinks him distracted, the man sneaks a careful hand down between their bodies to undo the buckle of Richard’s belt. He lets him get away with it, amused, biting down on Sebastian’s tongue hard enough to sting and threaten blood as the metal releases.

_“Fuck, Jim,”_  he says again, mumbling into Richard’s mouth, and before he can be shut up,  _“are we going to —”_  two wet kisses pressed to the corner of Richard’s lips,  _“do you really want to —”_ and Richard rolls his eyes.

He slips a hand up into the back of Sebastian’s hair, tangling his fingers through it, and tugs the man’s head back to stare him in the eyes. Every conscious movement from Sebastian shudders to a halt and he stares back, questions filling his eyes.

_“You,”_  Richard purrs quietly, puffing out air onto the man’s wet lips, making them tingle. _“Are —”_ he continues, as Sebastian’s eyes darken, moving down to focus on his mouth, watching it move.  _“Going —”_  he drags his tongue, a deliberate motion, across his bottom lip, not that it needed wetting. _“To fuck me,”_  he finishes simply, and before Sebastian can groan, he presses down for another kiss, swallowing it.

_“Jesus Christ,”_  comes out muffled between their mouths, and then Sebastian has both hands tucked under his trousers, squeezing his arse. It’s like he’s measuring it, categorising it, imagining how it’s going to fit around his cock soon.

He pulls away again, another tease, dragging his mouth so slowly their lips stay attached for a second longer than necessary. “Any questions?”

For a moment, it looks like there won’t be any, but Sebastian forms a proper thought before Richard can write him off as sort of an idiot. “On the sofa or on the bed?”

Richard laughs at the question like a pleased pet owner, and slips his unoccupied hand down between them, palming Sebastian’s cock. It’s more than half hard, obvious even from the bad angle, thick and warm through the fabric of the man’s jeans, and despite himself, Richard feels impressed.

He licks over his teeth, lips curling. “I think the bed should do, don’t you?” Sebastian nods immediately and enthusiastically, slipping his hands out to properly cup at Richard’s hips again. Before Richard can consider what the action means, he’s hefting himself up, pulling Richard straight into the air instead of setting him down, forcing him to either fall back or wrap his legs around Sebastian’s waist.

With only a brief thought over whether the man can take his wait, Richard complies, hooking a heel around each of Sebastian’s thighs. He’s obviously done this before, at least a few times, going by how easy he finds it to position them correctly. A hand props up Richard’s arse, and the other around his back, leaving him with only the need to look where he’s going.

That, of course, works out differently, as he brings their mouths together again, stumbling forward, and straight into a wall. Richard hardly minds, even as the air chokes out of his lungs, unable to breathe in quite yet with Sebastian’s mouth covering his. They linger like that for more than just a few moments, Sebastian kissing him breathless, until his chest feels as if it’s on fire and all he can do is paw at the back of the man’s head.

When his lips are finally released, he gasps against Sebastian, and the man only laughs as he pushes them away, down the hall. Once he’s collected enough air to speak again, Richard tugs on Sebastian’s hair, biting his chin sharply. Before he can stop him, Sebastian starts to go for Jim’s door, pushing against it and fumbling around for the knob. Startled, Richard drags him into a breathy kiss, mumbling into his mouth.

_“Your_  bed,” he orders, half coherent, not wanting Sebastian to think too hard about it, especially as the door behind them starts to swing open. The man groans, clearly considering some form or protest, but he obeys, pulling the door back shut again — _thank fuck_  — and walks him to the other side of the hallway, to his own room.

He’s not taken to the bed first, which is what he’d expected, but instead the wall by Sebastian’s chest of drawers. He’s pressed against it, softer now, the man’s tongue swiping over every corner of his mouth, like he’s memorising the taste, the feel, every sensation, and one of his hands moves away. It leaves Richard only propped up by the hand on his arse, the rest determined by how hard he’s pushed against both the wall and Sebastian’s body.

The man’s other hand fumbles around, tugging open a drawer, and searching blindly around in it for something. He doesn’t seem willing to give up Richard’s lips quite yet, even the littlest of pecks feeling deep and all consuming, pulling Richard deep down into the sensation of their mouths.

It’s surprisingly fantastic, the way that this man throws himself so totally into kissing, not treating it as nothing more than foreplay, but as a fully formed, enjoyable act in itself, designed for lingering over it.

He forgets about the hand not on him, forgets about what Sebastian’s doing, hooking an arm around the man’s neck to tug him closer, bring their mouths impossibly more together. But then he’s done, and the hand is back, along the back of his scalp, pressing a little tube to his hair as he’s tugged forward.

Sebastian drops more than throws him on the bed, making certain that he lands on the pillow — which smells thickly of sweat and cologne — and then lands on top of him. He’s treated to the feeling of the man’s entire body pressed over him, every stone of almost pure muscle lingering just barely over him, trapping him in place.

It should probably frighten him, this, especially if the man were to find out the truth about who he is, but it doesn’t. His cock throbs, and he growls, nibbling at Sebastian’s chin. “This is an expensive suit, _Moran._ If you ruin it with wrinkles, _I will murder you.”_

The threat only brings out a laugh, but Sebastian pulls back, moving so he can look over more of Richard’s body. “So take it off,” he taunts, smirking.

Returning the smirk with added venom, Richard snorts. “I thought that was your job,” he utters in a low purr. “I mean,  _really,”_  and he cocks an eyebrows, tilting his head back. “Undressing me? Stripping the garments from my body, unwrapping my body until I’m naked and utterly at your mercy?”

“When you put it like _that.”_  Sebastian’s tone slides into nothing short of a completely predatory growl, teeth showing and glinting in the half light of the bedside lamp. The line of his shoulders ripples as he moves — adjusting Richard’s position on the bed — and then he’s stealing another kiss, working one of Richard’s arms out of the jacket.

The moment his hand is freed, Richard brings it up to press over the man’s neck, fingers dancing over the bruise he left there. It makes Sebastian groan into his mouth, moving quicker to free the other hand, and throw the jacket in the direction of his chair.

It leaves Richard still in his shirt and tie, but he must look positively mussed like that, hair a mess, shirt untucked, tie askew, lips red as he pants into the air, and eyes dark when Sebastian pulls away again.

_“God,”_ he says, and then,  _“fuck, you look —”_  he swallows, a flicker of tenderness sliding over his features, but only for a moment, so brief that Richard almost misses it. But he doesn’t, catching exactly what it means, and it breaks his heart just a tiny bit, both for Sebastian and for his brother, and a little bit for himself.

Sebastian’s fingers move deftly over his tie, undoing it, and pushing it out of the way, but they slip along the buttons of his shirt, almost tearing the last ones in his rush to get Richard out of it. The urgency racing under Sebastian’s skin makes Richard laugh, dropping his head back, neck arching, as he lets the man work.

The cuffs are undone quickly, and then slipped from his wrists, the entire shirt tugged away, and then he’s bare chested. It’s interesting, though, because Sebastian doesn’t freeze when he sees the scars, doesn’t hesitate in his throwing of the shirt away. He does frown, dipping a hand down to brush along the longest of them, that stretches from his sternum to just above his left hip, hooking under the nipple — Jim’s handiwork — and he opens looks like he’s going to ask.

He lifts his head, meeting Richard’s eyes again, but the look in them must dissuade him, because he shuts his mouth, ducking his head to kiss the top of the mark. He drags his lips along it, the brush achingly tender as he slides to the end of it, marking the length with just enough saliva to make it tingle from his breath.

It’s all Richard can do to not hiss and whimper, the stretch of pale white sensitive and aching under Sebastian’s lips. He bats the man’s head away, tugging him up by the hair.  _“Don’t touch it,”_  he growls, and maybe it’s a little bit of himself slipping through, not just his Jim persona. But having Sebastian touching him there makes him feel so incredibly vulnerable that it’s sickening, and he loathes that feeling.

Under his hands, Sebastian jerks, surprised, but he complies, an apology flickering through his eyes, and he looks again like he might start to ask about it. He doesn’t, instead pulling away enough to go for his own shirt, tugging it up over his head so he’s matched with Richard in terms of nakedness.

His own chest has scars strewn about it, the most prominent being the one consuming where one of his nipples would be, more a set than anything. It looks like a claw, like sharp nails or teeth or something drove into his skin, ripping it from his body. It’s beautiful, oddly enough, and Sebastian goes for his trousers next, not looking up at Richard as he slides to the floor and he strips them from his legs.

As he shrugs off his boxers, he turns back to facing Richard fully again, showing off the thick, heavy cock between his legs, long and wide, the tip glistening and red. Richard’s eyes drag down to it immediately, smirking. The man most definitely did not exaggerate when it came to his size, and he licks his lips.

The movement of his tongue can almost be seen in the reflection of Sebastian’s eyes, following it, and he climbs back onto the bed, bracketing his body over Richard’s. Without saying a word, he drags a wet kiss from Richard’s mouth, licking over his lips, and sucking briefly on his tongue.

Richard finds himself lifting a hand again, tangling the fingers in Sebastian’s hair, holding him in place. He rocks his body up, hooking a leg around the back of the man’s hips, rubbing his aching, still partially clothed body against Sebastian’s fully naked one.

A deep groan rumbles from Sebastian’s throat, hands working under Richard, stretching out along his shoulder blades, and holding him up close, as if he might be able to slip inside him if they get close enough.

He returns Sebastian’s groans with a purr, tinging more on the edge of just a vibration than a sound. “Are you going to ever get around to fucking me or not, _‘B_ ast _ian?_ ” He enunciates the B as if it’s the most important letter, dragging out the rest of the vowels as far as they’ll go, until Sebastian muffles them against his lips.

In response, Sebastian digs a hand under his arse again, underneath his trousers to get to his skin and squeeze his left buttock.  _Patience_ is growled against his tongue, before the man undoes his flies. He shuffles backwards from that, breaking the kiss quite suddenly, moving down Richard’s as he steals the last of his clothing from his legs.

Though his cock is hardly comparable to Sebastian’s, it bounces out proudly, stiff against his stomach, and Sebastian’s eyes never leave it as he throws away the trousers. He moves back up, but not to Richard’s lips, to his cock instead, hands fluttering over his hips. The look in his eyes could be described as nothing short of adoring, and he licks his lips, closing his mouth over just the tip without a word.

A hiss flutters from Richard’s mouth, leg coming immediately up, hooking around the back of Sebastian’s neck.  _“Fuck!”_ he spits out, Sebastian’s tongue swirling around his crown, sucking on it like an especially delicious candy treat.

The man only grins, bobbing lower, mouth so remarkably wet and open, hollowing out around him, before tightening. He drags his tongue as he moves, only taking about half, swallowing around it, and then back up.

From his place still down there, Sebastian glances up at him, making certain of the look on Richard’s face — a combination of rippling pleasure, annoyance, and impatience — and goes back down, taking him in to the root.

It would be a lie to say that this is the best blowjob Richard has ever had — it’s definitely in the top five — but there’s something about the way Sebastian goes about it. It’s not just determination, or hunger when it comes to taking a cock into his mouth, or simple technique. The way his mouth slicks over Richard, sticky and wet, teeth dragging in just the right places, and only for a second or two, hands coming up to cup Richard’s bollocks.

It’s as if he wants Richard to come now, to wring the pleasure out of him this way first, and then fuck him, and the thought makes him moan. He drives both hands down to Sebastian’s hair, taking hold of it like handles, forcing him to go down deeper, to swallow around the length in his throat.

The muscles ripple around him, and Sebastian makes a soft choking sound, not enough to be concerning, as Richard holds him in place. He can still breathe through his nose, and he does, sniffing as he brings his eyes up to meet Richard’s, mouth stretched so perfectly wide.

There’s hardly room for misinterpretation in his eyes, and without hesitating over it, Richard takes the offer for what it is. The grip he has in Sebastian’s hair tightens, and as the man attempts a smirk around him, he drags him up, fucking in and out of his mouth first slowly, and building his pace up.

Sebastian gags at first, just a little bit, throat contracting around Richard’s cock, but he doesn’t let up. The man’s mouth seems only to grow somehow hotter and wetter, sliding noisily along Richard’s length, and Richard can only he groan. He drives himself up, grinding against the man’s face, pushing himself in as deep as he can possibly manage, until Sebastian’s eyes roll back into his head. He can feel his bollocks drawing up, tightening, and he knows he’s close.

One of the hands on his arse starts to move after a moment, and Richard knows immediately where it’s going, making no move to stop it as it slides dryly down the crack of his arse. He slows down his pace again, not because he can’t keep up, but because he enjoys the lazily glide more, watching his cock slide agonisingly slowly in and out of the space between Sebastian’s lips.

_His mouth was made for this,_  is all Richard can conclude, and he knows beyond any shadow of a doubt that his brother will have reached the same conclusion, even before experiencing this himself.  _He’s born to suck cock. And Jim will delight himself in taking what’s offered, even if he only takes him all the way into his bed a few times._

He groans, Sebastian’s forefinger digging past the ring of muscle, and into his arse. It burns, but he’s hardly a stranger to being fucked dry, by fingers or cock, and he opens around it. “Come  _on,”_ he growls, just a little bit of a whine searing into his tone.

Taking his cue, Sebastian hunts down his prostate without delay, thrusting against it, humming around him as best he can at the same moment, and then swallowing. With a sharp hiss, Richard bites down on his tongue, grinding down against the finger, pleasure beating down into him. When he comes, just moments later, it's with a garbled sound, doing his best to mask the syllables that are just a little bit too close to the sound of his brother’s name.

The man doesn’t notice — and if he does, he probably writes it off as some twisted variety of narcissism — only focusing on swallowing every drop of Richard’s release, milking his orgasm from him with the finger driving against his prostate. For several moments, all Richard can do is groan open mouthed, body clenching under Sebastian, his stomach feeling like it’s rolled itself into intricate knots.

Once satisfied that he’s done, Sebastian pulls himself off, licking wetly around Richard’s softening cock. He scratches at the man’s hair, half petting him, laughing breathlessly at the look in Sebastian’s eyes. They sparkle, and as Sebastian’s withdraws the finger, he winks up at Richard.

_“Ugh,”_  Richard doesn’t let go of his hair, tugging at the man automatically, pulling him up to kiss him again. He can taste himself thickly in Sebastian’s mouth, traces of himself painting the inside of the man’s cheeks, and he deepens the liplock. _“Your mouth,”_  he groans, Sebastian’s tongue swirling against his, and he slides his hand back to cup at the man’s neck.

His energy returning back to him from the kiss, Richard scratches at Sebastian’s back, nails digging sharply into his skin, trailing bites down to the man’s chin. “Aren’t you going to fuck me at some point, Moran?” he purrs, as Sebastian hisses against him.

Pulling back, the man groans, his hand disappearing as he goes after the lube he’d discarded earlier. “Feisty little  _fucker,”_ he growls, meeting Richard’s eyes for a moment, but it’s not bitterness in his tone. With a firm grip, he pushes Richard’s legs up against his chest, working two slick fingers down underneath him, to worm into his arse.

They slide easily in this time, both going in without a second thought, and Richard whines shallowly. He paws at Sebastian’s back, the digits thrusting into his prostate, and it’s quite nearly too much, over stimulating him, but the man doesn’t let up. He drives them hard, scissoring, hitting him just right to feel like he’s being choked with them.

Though Sebastian’s eyes don’t leave his face, making certain that he’s taking it well, it doesn’t take long for the man to determine that Richard’s ready for another, and then a third works its way inside with the other two.

They hurt, pushing up into him, but it’s a delicious hurt, that has Richard biting down on his lip. At this rate, he’ll be ready to come again from Sebastian’s cock in him, and he knows it. He’s surprised, though, because most men only do the three fingers before deeming someone ready, but Sebastian wriggles a fourth one in there, pushing them as far in as they’ll go, spreading Richard wide with his hand.

It’s near vicious, this stretch, gloriously so, and it’s sure to not even come close to what it will be like to have the man’s cock plowing into him. He can feel it already, in his throat, ramming into him, and he wants it.

_“Come on,”_  he purrs again, pushing a hand up to wrap it around Sebastian’s throat. His hands are too small to go even go halfway, but he does his best, like his fingers are a collar. If Sebastian appreciates it or loathes it, he can’t quite tell, the man’s eyes flashing dark and vicious for a moment when they flicker back up to meet his.

He only grins, baring his teeth viciously the way he’s seen Jim do on so many occasions, and the fingers freeze inside him, a shudder wracking its way down Sebastian’s body.  _“Fuck me,”_  he says again, more aggression slipping into his tone. “Or I slice off your cock, stuff it, and ride it like a dildo.”

His threat clearly manages to be enough to shake Sebastian free, a laugh billowing up from his chest.  _“Patience,_  boss,” he tells Richard, pressing a kiss to the side of his chin, dragging his teeth along the skin. But he does pull out his fingers, leaving Richard feeling slippery and gaping open.

He doesn’t move his legs when Sebastian pulls back, holding them in place with his arms hooked under his knees, looking up in time to catch the man dragging a slick hand over his cock. The sight stirs something in his stomach, and he groans, mouth watering. He can’t tear his eyes away from it, away from the way he drags the foreskin up, sliding it over the tip, and then back down, spreading a liberal amount of lubricant across.

“Fuck,” he licks his lips, tempted to slide fingers into himself as a distraction, and yeah, okay, maybe he’s a little bit more of a slut than Jim is. Or a lot more, actually. But he wants to be fucked, and Jim didn’t fuck him, because he didn’t want Sebastian to know Richard had been with someone else just hours before, and Sebastian’s cock looks incredible.  _“Come here.”_

Without a moment of thought, Sebastian moves forward, obeying him, wiggling closer on the bed, and then his cock is positioned perfectly to bump up between the back of Richard’s thighs. It’s warm, wet against his skin, and feels huge as it brushes up against the furl of loosened muscle behind his perineum.

There’s a moment of hesitation in Sebastian’s eyes suddenly, questioning — but not questioning  _Jim_ , questioning  _himself_ _—_  and Richard rolls his eyes. He drops his legs down, wrapping one around the Sebastian’s back, using an arm to hook his upper body, and then they’re rolling. He pushes Sebastian down next to where he’d just been, crawling up properly on his body and situating himself.

_“Now,”_ he clears his throat, using one of his hands to pry open his cheeks, and the other to grip the base of Sebastian’s cock, he works his way down onto the man’s length. The first moment of penetration feels utterly surreal, like it might not go in, but then the tip pops past, and he’s sliding down easily. Gravity takes over from there, his body completely willing to pull the hard, foreign object into him, and he groans, pushing his head back.

“Fuck,  _that’s —”_  he doesn’t finish, arching his back and his neck, pushing down as he forces himself to take the last bit, Sebastian’s cock spearing him so deep that it feels like he’s doing irreparable damage to himself.

When he looks up, Sebastian has this utterly, exquisitely blissed out, agonised look on his face, mixed with undeniable restraint. He bites down on his lips, hands tangled in the bed sheets, and Richard groans out a laugh at him. As he rolls his hips down, getting his body used to the sensations, and he drags the man’s hands up, placing them on his waist.

The pressure on his skin tightens immediately, Sebastian’s hands clenching hard, but he doesn’t mind. There will most likely be bruises later, and he relishes that thought, rocking Sebastian against his prostate.

Releasing another deep groan, he shudders, reaching his hands up now to clasp around Sebastian’s neck.  _“Fuck me,”_ he demands, leaning forward to growl against the man’s face.

Before the words have even fully left his tongue, Sebastian gives in, pulling Richard up by his waist to drag him halfway off, and then dropping him, shoving his own hips so roughly up that they jolt cruelly together. It drags a half-shriek from Richard’s throat, the stimulation and depth nearly barrelling him over, and _fuck,_ he decides,  _yes, Sebastian is already one of his better fucks._

The man’s cock fills him in a way that not even Jim does — Jim, who learnt his body at a young age, teaching it to him as he went, until he knew it like the back of his own hand, better than Richard would ever know it. The only thing Jim had ever done to compare to the sensation of Sebastian’s cock in him is when he works his fist into Richard, and that’s so many years past that he can barely remember it right now.

Sebastian waits until he’s distracted, driving against his prostate enough times that he’s groaning out in painful bliss, and then he flips them around again, shoving Richard down onto the bed. He pulls out, not even giving Richard another thrust, before he’s pushing him around, onto his hands and knees.

He opens his mouth to complain — Jim would never let  _anyone_  fuck him like this — but then Sebastian fucks into him again, chest sliding up against his back, bottoming out, and he can’t speak. It feels so good, Sebastian so deep, digging into him with Richard’s favourite position, and all he can do is hang his head and take it.

Most likely, he should stop it, shove Sebastian around again — not that he doesn’t suspect just why the man doesn’t want to be looking into his face when he fucks him — because he can’t let the man get used to the idea of being able to do that when he takes Jim in the future. Assuming that Jim doesn’t just decide to be the one doing the fucking, that is.

Teeth drag against the back of his neck, threatening to bite, and he struggles to not bare it, to not give his complete submission to this man. He rocks back forcefully instead, making Sebastian’s bollocks slap against his skin, and his own cock bounces against the bed sheet.

_“Jim,_  god,  _fuck —”_  Sebastian chokes out the words, unable to form a complete sentence, and he digs his teeth sharply into one of Richard’s shoulders. He can’t seem to help himself, needing this, unable to stop now that he’s in Jim, finally, and he hooks his arms underneath the man’s armpits, pulling him back with every thrust into him.

He hates it, though, hates the sound of  _Jim’s_  name on this man’s lips. It’s not  _his_  name, it’s not  _Richard,_  and Sebastian has no right to call out Jim’s name here. Not when he’s not fucking Jim, even if he doesn’t know it, and it’s illogical, because he’s supposed to be Jim right now, he’s not supposed to let his jealousy get the best of him.

But it’s still there, that feeling of bitterness, of someone else trying to claim his brother from him — not that Jim is  _his,_ because people belong _to Jim,_ not the other way around — that horrible clenching in his gut that Sebastian isn’t his. Not that he’d want to keep the man, or would even want to try and take something of Jim’s, but so much of him hates having to share, the same way that Jim does, and it’s a horrible feeling.

Instead of speaking, fearing that he might say something that gives him away, he shoves a hand down between his legs, pumping his cock as it struggles back to filling out fully with blood. He growls, shoving up into a weak fist, driving himself back with as many of Sebastian’s thrusts as he can manage, but he’s not that good.

He can’t catch them all, can’t keep up that perfectly, occasionally just a second out of sync, which only serves to make it better, worse, something. Sebastian hits his prostate again, and then doesn’t, fucking around it, thrusting just next to it, so he can feel it, so close, but not quite, not hitting him good enough, and it makes him whine desperately.

His skin feels hot, sweat pooling on his forehead, the slick noticeable between their bodies as their skin slides together, and it’s a mess. His hand isn’t good enough on his cock, and it hurts, because he came not long ago, and this is too soon, but he knows he’ll have another one soon, that Sebastian will fuck it viciously out of him, until he’s dry and spent.

_“Sebastian —”_  he grinds out between clenched teeth, trying not to whine, not to whimper, and he almost says please, almost starts to beg.

Wet slips slide over his ear, tongue swirling under it, and he groans again. “Yes, Jim?” and Sebastian’s clearly trying to sound like he’s fully together, not out of his mind at all from this, but his voice cracks, and he isn’t able to hide it nearly enough to fool Richard. “Something you want?”

He only turns his head, twisting it around awkwardly until he can bite at Sebastian’s mouth. It’s not a kiss, not anything like one, even as he drags one of the man’s lips between his teeth so he can suck on it. _“Harder,”_  he growls, the noise only losing some of its force in a mumble. “Make me  _feel it.”_

Whatever curses Sebastian utters are lost in his skin when he pulls his mouth away from Richard’s, mumbled mindlessly against his spine, and all Richard can feel of them is wet lips, hot breath bleeding down onto his sweaty skin, groaning when Sebastian pulls almost all the way back and drives into him again. It knocks the air from his lungs, leaving his mouth hanging open for several blank seconds, and then it’s happening again, every thrust flowing from the shallow ones of before into hard and deep and thorough.

It’s nearly too much, filling him so deep, fucking him so hot, and it’s fucking phenomenal. Sebastian has got to be a machine, that’s the only thing that makes sense, that he could fuck so perfectly, not tiring in the slightest as he keeps up the same pace every time for who knows how long.

Richard can’t even remember what time it was when this started, not that it matters, not that he’d be able to find out what time it is now, too preoccupied with squeezing his cock. He’s close, so close, and then Sebastian bats his hand away, forcing it roughly back down onto the mattress.

He tries to protest, to say something, but then Sebastian bites him again, teeth splitting the skin along his side, making him feel breathless and insane all at the same time. His body throbs, aching, his head dizzy, and it’s so thorough, so consuming, that every rock backwards feels like the very last he’ll ever manage.

But it’s not, they’re not, and he always has enough in him for just one more, helped by Sebastian’s body, helped by the force of his hands, dragging him away and shoving him back down, cock spearing him over and over, until every thrust hits is prostate without a single blip in effort.

He comes with barely a sound, choking on himself, on the saliva pooled in his throat, cock shooting off between the bedsheet and Richard’s chest, driving his body into spasms. It shouldn’t be this powerful, this second orgasm, but it is, more incredible than the first, when it was Sebastian’s lips and throat wrapped around him.

It’s so much that he collapses into the pool of his own release, body lurched forward, and that’s not enough to make Sebastian stop, or slow down. He keeps at it, keeps driving Richard forward, only making the effort to pull Richard’s arse higher into the air, so he can plow into him without trouble.

Even after every drop has been milked out of his cock, Sebastian’s still going, over stimulating him, making him want to cry from it — but he doesn’t, because there have been plenty of times that Jim has done the same thing, pushed him further than he can go, and fucked him until he cried from the overwhelming swirl of _too much._

It’s only a few more thrusts — or maybe it’s a dozen — but it doesn’t take long for him to hear Sebastian groaning, muffling his sounds into Richard’s skin as he presses down at him, thrusts beginning to slow. He drives himself in deep one last time, pulsing inside of Richard, and he can almost feel the slick of the man’s release filling him.

Half heartedly, he squeezes his muscles around the man, milking him some, which makes Sebastian bite another moan into him. His hands clench along Richard’s sides several times, fingers painfully tight along his skin, but then it’s over, and he’s pulling out all the way.

In the back of his mind, Richard feels relief that Sebastian doesn’t collapse on him, moving away to fall down on the bed next to him, with a distinct ‘oof’ sound. His head still feels too heavy, and he reaches back lazily, feeling around at the semen dribbling out from his hole down to his thighs.

As his finger brushes up just near the muscle, his body threatens to tighten, and he laughs at himself, dragging fingers through the slippery release coming out of him. Turning on his side, he reaches over to smear Sebastian’s come across the man’s chest, an amused grin on his lips.

Sebastian only blinks at him, licking his lips as he peers down at the hand, but doesn’t stop him, and that makes Richard giggle.

It’s over now, his part is down, and he can let Jim bleed out of his body, easing the tension of his muscles as his brother’s personality leaves him, allowing Richard to settle back into place. It’s nearly the feeling of coming off a high, exhausting and overwhelming, but it’s still light enough to make his giggles stretch on, and he presses forward to drag his lips across Sebastian’s chest.

There’s no need for it now, but he didn’t get the chance earlier to lick across the man’s skin, and now he can, tongue swirling around the semen he’s just spread there. “Y’know, Seb?” he mutters, yawning as he nuzzles Sebastian’s chest. “You’re not half bad.”

“Uh —” Sebastian seems at a loss for words, not quite certain what to say, and Richard snickers at him. “I didn’t expect you to be this, ehm,” he struggles for the right words to say, glancing down at Richard’s tongue as it peeks out to lick up the last of the semen. “Giggly? Or, uh,  _affectionate?”_

“Oh, I’m not,” and that sets of Richard off again, cackling, lips spreading wide to reveal his dimples. “I’m  _really_  not. Well, okay,  _Jim —”_

He’s cut off by the sound of someone clearing their throat, and he quickly turns, to the sight of his brother leaning against the open door frame. Beside him Sebastian’s entire body tenses, and he makes a sound, but Richard doesn’t pay attention to it.

Richard flashes his brother a smile, as Jim’s eyebrow quirks deliberately at him. “I give him a, _hmm,”_  he glances back at Sebastian, at the confused, horrified expression on his face. “I give him a solid nine point five for the performance.”

He looks back at Jim, and Jim snorts, considering his words. “You certainly were loud, little brother,” but he doesn’t look all that put out, only amused. “But on the bright side, that means you definitely enjoyed your little  _foray_  with my pet.”

Still smiling, Richard moves to sit up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “Hardly the word choice I would use, really. You gave me  _permission,_ after all. You nearly  _ordered_  me to do it. He was good, though. A little bit of work, and I’m sure you’ll find him utterly exquisite.”

“What the  ** _fuck —?”_**  and finally Sebastian has his words back. They both glance at him, their expressions a practically perfect match as they shrug. “You have a —”

With a bark of a laugh, Richard walks over to Jim, ignoring Sebastian now. He presses a kiss to the corner of the man’s lips. “He’s all yours, brother,” he murmurs, loud enough for both of them to hear him. “And _I_  am going to bathe now. You’re welcome to join me, if you’re inclined to fuck his come out of my arse now that he’s had it.”

He salutes them both casually, with just two fingers, and makes off, still fully nude with semen dripping down his thighs, down the hallway to the shower.

As he walks away, he can hear the flurry of curses spat from Sebastian’s lips, followed by the very distinct sound of a backhanded slap across someone’s face.


End file.
